Crude, rude, filthy, and more infectious than a bad case of herpes--that sums up Balls Out, the new record from Hollywood’s Steel Panther. After their breakout debut album, the self-professed legends of the Sunset Strip return with 14 sex-crazed, drug-fueled, '80s-infused anthems, from the stampeding opener “Supersonic Sex Machine” to the almost poetic “Just Like Tiger Woods” and the spectacularly absurd “It Won’t Suck Itself.” The humor is juvenile, over-the-top, tongue-in-cheek, and in very, very bad taste. The musicianship is noticeably more layered than on their debut album, giving guitarist Satchel room to rip off some killer riffs and wail some face-melting solos. However, the guys miss a beat with the downright misogynistic “That’s What Girls Are For.” Love 'em or hate 'em, you have to give the guys credit for their unapologetic attitude and seriously catchy tunes (“Gold Digging Whore” we're looking at you). Before you know it, you’ll be singing along to lyrics that are so vulgar and obscene they could make John Waters blush. Marilyn Manson, step aside. The new shock-rock--or is it shocker-rock?--kings are in town. JEREMY BORJON
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